


We're In This Together

by herbeautifullie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic, Muggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbeautifullie/pseuds/herbeautifullie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco and Hermione on a trip to Sainsbury's. Muggles, crisps and giggling school girls, oh my!</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're In This Together

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you to the lovely [Ing](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ingberry) for the beta. I can't thank you enough for your help and all remaining errors are my own (because I had to tamper when she was done, didn't I?) Also, this has nothing at all to do with [Precious Things](http://archiveofourown.org/works/299936) despite the use of the same name. I actually wrote this about 3 months before Precious Things but I never really meant to share it. I decided a few weeks ago it was actually kind of cute and might make someone smile so... Here it is. 
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. Sainsbury's having an online shopping feature totally saved me here. Thank you to whoever came up with that idea! ;)

“Put her in the trolley, Malfoy."

Draco raised a pale eyebrow at the demand before he cast a glance at the orange-barred row of trolleys before them. He'd adamantly declined to come along and until Hermione had pointed at the blonde, curly-haired toddler playing on the floor and said, “Lyra and I will go on our own then,” he'd been sure there wasn't a thing in the world worth joining her on one of her infamous Muggle adventures for. He'd come to protect his daughter from Mugglepox and touching the _trolley_ seemed counter-productive. “I'll hold her, Granger,” he scowled, shifting Lyra more comfortably on his hip as she reached with wet, pale fingers to grip his hair and mumbled, “mine, daddy.”

“No,” warned Hermione. She reached forward to loosen her daughter's fingers in his hair. “Not your hair, Lyra. Your hair is curly like mummy's and you'll keep your hands to yourself, understand?”

Draco laughed as her tiny, pointed nose scrunched up in distaste. She shook her head adamantly, blonde curls bouncing in all directions and grey eyes tearing slightly in the corners as she said, “I don't want mummy's hair.”

“DNA had other things in mind, young lady,” Hermione said warmly, pinching rosy cheeks as she gave Draco a dark look. “Your mummy beat your daddy in that area, too.”

Scoffing, Draco's eyes gave a plump passing customer a curious glare before he stepped out of the way of other shoppers and said, “We should shop. I'd rather my daughter live to see her next birthday.”

“Pony,” Lyra reminded him sweetly as she patted his cheek with her hand. “A white pony, please.”

Hermione shook her head as she pushed her trolley forward towards the first aisle. “Absolutely not,” she said. “I have enough with the Crup, Kneazle and owl always wandering about.”

Lyra's eyes rolled as she sighed in an exaggerated fashion far too similar to Narcissa and whispered, “She's so _bossy_ , daddy.”

Nodding, Draco shifted out of the way of another passing Muggle who smelled more like a fish than a human and wore trousers with holes at the knees. He shifted Lyra closer, grasping her tiny waist entirely with one hand and allowing her to rest her head against his shoulder with another displeased sigh. 

“If you ever want a ring on that finger of yours, Granger, you'll watch your tone.” 

Amused, Hermione turned from examining the bright purple bag in her hand and replied, “I've had a ring on my finger for a year now, Malfoy. You put it there, remember?”

“A bloody shame, too,” Malfoy said. Lyra snuggled closer to him, her eyes firmly shut, mouth seeming to glisten with the tell-tale signs of drool in the corner. Despite her sleeping state, he leaned away and whispered, “The sex isn't nearly worth the scandal or the punch Weasley landed on my nose.”

“The punch was payback for breaking Harry's nose, it had nothing to do with your incredibly indecent proposal,” Hermione said dryly as she shifted the bag to the other hand before she shook her head, disappointed at the nutritional facts on the label. “Crisps?”

“I don't understand what is indecent about 'Will you put the damn ring on your finger so that your evil, half-blood sprog won't have the 'bastard' title in addition' and 'I'm tired of having one-night stands when I could be having incredibly hot, raunchy hours of sex with you every night'?” Draco drawled quietly, sneering slightly as a young woman next to him cast a wide-eyed gaze in his direction. “Yes, to the crisps,” he responded when the woman fled from the aisle and his heart-freezing glare, “cheese and onion flavor.”

“No, I don't like those. And Lyra was never a _bastard_ child,” Hermione said as she shot a warm glance at the toddler curled against Draco's chest. He knew she was secretly in love with the Slytherin green dress, long grey socks and leather shoes Draco had determined she should wear on their 'Muggle Adventure'. She couldn't resist the perfect parlor of Lyra's skin, the slight point of her chin and nose and the way she drooled in her sleep.

After all, if he couldn't, no one could. 

The idea of anything so perfect ever being branded with such a title was preposterous. To Hell with the dictionary definition, Hermione had thought when she'd held the wrinkled mess of pale skin, red lips and screams of fury for the first time; Lyra would have never been a bastard child. 

“Why did you ask then, Granger?” Draco questioned, glaring as Hermione tossed a bag of sour cream and chive crisps in the trolley before she continued on. “Lyra is a bloody menace, much like her lovely mum. And what do you think the definition of a bastard child is?”

“I just wanted the opportunity to tell you 'no',” Hermione explained plainly. She turned the corner, stopping at a display of mini biscotti biscuits before adding them to the trolley. She raised an eyebrow at the sudden addition of Draco's infamous cheese and onion crisps. When she glanced up to catch his eye, he turned away. The slight glow of redness at his collar gave him away. “You're getting red in the face over _crisps_ and blood purity. Funny, you didn't mind my blood much when you were pinning my wrists to the bed and-”

There was a gasp from behind them and a giggle as an older woman swept past them with a furious glance, pulling a blushing teenage girl with her as she muttered, “But nan, he's so _cute_.”

Draco winced slightly at the young Muggle girl's smitten stare while Hermione stared in shock at the back of the toddling old woman before pushing the trolley forward furiously, adamant to complete her shopping and return home. Embarrassment didn't even begin to cover it. 

“Don't speak such perversions around my daughter,” Draco said when they turned the corner,  
“She'll end up pregnant with a Potter in less than a year if you keep it up.”

“Malfoy, she's hardly two. I'm fairly certain she can't be impregnated by a Potter child that doesn't even exist yet before the age of three.” Hermione explained slowly, keeping her voice low in hopes of not attracting any more attention than she and her husband already had. The point of shopping at a Muggle grocer's had been to keep appearances limited and allow her plenty of time to peruse. Her plan, it seemed, was failing. She reached forward to throw a box of Cheerios into the trolley, pulling out Draco's Coco Pops and insisting that Lyra not be eating Cookie Crisp for breakfast when there were clearly plenty of other healthier choices for her to have. 

“There are plenty of Weasleys already running amok with their willies out, though,” Draco responded as he tugged the box of chocolate cereal from the shelf and batted away Hermione's hand as she reached to return it a second time. “They need to be watched. A Weasley grandchild would be worse by far and I'm certain _they_ start breeding at 3 years old.”

“I was going to be married to one of those Weasleys, Malfoy. You'd do best to remember that because I'm certain it's never too late for me to change my mind.”

Hermione assessed a box of Special K momentarily, rationalising that the sale price was great but could she finish two boxes before they expired? She nodded, deciding on Peach and Apricot and Red Berries before she moved forward again. 

“Do you hear that, darling?” Draco whispered to Lyra's sleeping form. He pulled down the skirt of her dress with his spare hand before rubbing a soothing circle over her back. “Your mummy was going to let you be born a ginger with a square head and aberrations on your gorgeous face.”

“What aberrations?” Hermione asked, waving a package of Oreos in Draco's direction and throwing them in the trolley when she received a nod of approval. 

“Freckles, aberrations -they're one in the same.”

“I have freckles,” Hermione remarked dryly, hoping to embarrass him. Instead, she heard, “I realised when we shagged with the lights on for the first time a week ago – that was quite a different experience; remind me not to request a repeat performance. Can you imagine if you and Weasley had created children with freckles from _both_ of you? Merlin blessed you when he sent that curse that attracted me to your awful idea of wit and lack of charm.”

“Really, though,” Draco added quietly, “how long did it take you to realise that clearly you could do no better than myself? Was it our first one-off when you tripped over your awful red knickers and I still shagged you; or the second time when you made the most horrendous meal my palate has ever experienced and I convinced you that swallowing cum tasted better than your curry? Neither of those? Perhaps the third, then; during which you sicked up over the side of the bed moments after we shagged and I cleaned up after you?”

Hermione scoffed loudly, apologised when another shopper gave her a curious glance and then leaned forward, nearly pressing her lips against Draco's ear as she hissed, “No, the first one night stand convinced me you were a decent shag. The second convinced me that you were entirely too fertile for your own good and the third reminded me that most one-offs ended after the _first_ one-off and that you were beginning to come around too regularly.”

Draco nodded, the movement jostling Lyra slightly in his arms. Her eyes fluttered, grey orbs peering between the two for a moment before she mumbled something quietly, adjusted herself against her father and closed her eyes to dream a little longer. “Funny that,” Draco whispered as he ran his fingers soothingly through her curls, “because that third one was when I realised that if I didn't put a ring on that finger, I was going to have to share your oddly satisfying sexual prowess.”

“Malfoys don't share,” Hermione said distractedly as she pulled out the box of popcorn Draco had just thrown in. She placed it between two boxes of crackers and sighed when an associate scoffed loudly at her laziness. “Fine,” she said as she snatched the box to throw it back amongst her husband's snacks, “we'll keep the popcorn.” 

“Look, the honorary Malfoy is already learning the rules,” Draco mocked in her ear, stepping back to avoid her hair as she swung around quickly to focus her cool brown eyes intently on his slightly pointed features. 

“Don't say things like that,” she demanded as she turned to face the aisle of frozen foods, “you know I hate it.”

“Nearly as much as I hate the meals from boxes,” Draco remarked. His grey eyes gave the boxed pizzas and pies a look of pure disdain and when she turned to assess the frozen fruits, he returned half of what she'd picked up to the closest freezer. He ignored the associate who huffed when he placed the varying boxes in incorrect spots. 

Giving in to Muggles in orange shirts was something Gryffindors did. Slytherins made it worse for them by dropping a carton of Tropicana orange juice 'accidentally' once the glaring associate was done with his previous task of placing mixed meat pies and pizzas in their correct spots. 

Oops? 

“Is there anything else you'd like?” Hermione asked wearily after she apologised profusely to the acne-ridden teenager who had set to cleaning up Draco's mess. Lyra rustled in his arms as Hermione returned, softening the blow he was certain she was going to deal when she said, “Mummy, can we have blueberries?”

“Of course,” she replied, reaching forward to fluff the side of Lyra's head where her curls had become slightly flat. “Anything for you after such a wonderful nap, yeah?”

“Malfoys don't nap,” Lyra yawned, mouth stretching wide and crusted drool creasing as she did so. “Too busy dom-in-ate-eng the world.”

She broke down 'dominating' slowly, her pale brows drawing together as she attempted to remember the word. After, she glanced up at her father expectantly, waiting for his word of approval. He winked quickly, tilting his head in an attempt to make it a secret between just the two of them and smiled when she attempted to wink back. She failed, blinking rapidly instead before huffing in disappointment and saying, “rubbish!”

Laughing, Draco dropped her to her feet, patted her bum gently and insisted she follow her mum to the checkout. He watched her toddle slightly, her grey socks bunching at the ankle before she wrapped her arm around Hermione's leg and leaned her head against her side, blonde curls bright against her mother's dark denims. 

Perhaps, he thought as Hermione knelt down to straighten their daughter's green dress, weekend shopping with the Muggles wasn't terrible. The Oreos alone were worth the visit; the two gorgeous girls before him were just an added bonus.


End file.
